Coffee in Budapest
by Foolish Mortal
Summary: Lucian tries to recruit the human named Michael Corvin at a cafe in Budapest. Michael asks him to dinner instead. Michael/Lucian
1. Chapter 1

**Notes:** Spoilers for the Underworld film. All people and places mentioned in this story are from the Underworld wikia database.

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><p>Lucian's intelligence network said that Michael Corvin took a lunch break at the Varga café between twelve-fifteen and twelve-forty every day because the café served cheap food and was close to the hospital where Michael worked. Lucian made sure he was there early and had a good seat in an unobtrusive place in the shade.<p>

Lucian had signed up for the assignment on the pretext that even his closest rebel generals were unsuited to such a delicate mission (they were), but he was also curious about this particular descendant of Corvinus. Of the various spiderwebbing family trees descended from Alexander Corvinus, Michael's had the fewest was one of the purest living descendants on the continent, and Lucian would be meeting him in less than two hours. The thought sent a small thrill through him. A few more hours, and their victory over the vampires was almost assured. It had been worth the risk of moving his core team to Budapest, so close to Ördögház where the Elders slept. Where Viktor slept.

Lucian ordered a glass of water and tried to control his breathing; it would not do to get overexcited too early. Even Viktor's complex and ancient plans had been overthrown in one night of blood and revolution. He touched the cold metal of Sonja's necklace at his throat, and the sharp press of its curved edge grounded him.

A group of hospital staff flooded the café at noon, and Lucian cursed under his breath. He had no idea what this Michael Corvin looked like, and he would smell like any other human. Lucian's view was further obscured when a man in dark glasses sat at a table directly in front of him and opened up a newspaper. Lucian cursed under his breath and considered aborting the plan. He clenched his hand around his glass. No, but perhaps—he stole a glance at the glint of a medical badge clipped to the inside of the man's jacket—perhaps he could establish some contacts and collect more information on Michael.

Lucian put on his friendliest expression, straightened his jacket, and walked over. He noticed the man was reading a dated copy of the Times. An Englishman, then.

"I thought Parliament had decided on the tariff issue last month," Lucian remarked. He'd always been talented at accents, and he could do a Welsh one very well. The words fit strangely in his mouth. He was out of practice.

The man looked up in surprise at hearing English. He had a strong jaw and hair that needed trimming. "Y-Yeah," he said. "I can only get my hands on the old newspapers, but I think I would go crazy if I had to read Hungarian all the time."

"You're American," Lucian said and sat down in the other chair. He could see himself reflected in the man's dark glasses. "What are you doing in Budapest?"

"I'm the resident trauma surgeon at the hospital," the man replied. "My mother is originally from Budapest, and I spent summers here with my grandparents. I thought I could…start over here." The man smiled. "As my grandmother would say, Man plans, God executes."

Lucian smiled back, unexpectedly charmed. It had been a while since he had heard that particular proverb. Sonja had been fond of it long after she had become immortal and stopped believing in God entirely.

"Sorry," the man said. He took off his glasses and held out a hand. His eyes were an arresting shade of brown. "I'm Michael Corvin."

"Michael," Lucian breathed and wondered if luck was finally on his side. Of course this was Michael Corvin. Of course. He had known the human line of Corvinus was striking, but he'd had no idea. "My name is Lucian."

He shook Michael's hand, and felt his powerful grip. There was nothing delicate about Michael despite his profession as a doctor. He had wide powerful shoulders like a swimmer, and his hands were large and square. He would be an impressive lycan.

"Lucian," Michael repeated. "That's an interesting name." He put down his newspaper and leaned forward with his chin resting on his clasped hands. "I guess I should ask what _you're_ doing in Budapest, Lucian."

"I'm the head of a new company," Lucian said. It was a smooth easy lie, one he had used before. "We're in Budapest for a lucrative business opportunity."

A server brought a small strong cup of Turkish coffee, and he and Michael reached for it at the same time. Michael pulled back and gestured for him to take it. "Go ahead. You look like you need it more than I do."

"Thank you." Lucian took a long drink from the cup to hide his surprise.

The human eye was very slow compared to other animals, and Lucian's lycan blood let him capture microseconds of movement that he might have otherwise missed as a mortal man. Michael had unconsciously averted his eyes when he had offered Lucian the coffee. A sign of submission. He was acting like a newcomer in the presence of a pack alpha, but that couldn't be. Michael wasn't a lycan, or Lucian would have smelled it on him.

Michael sat back to study him over steepled fingers. "I don't mean to pry, but you look like you're about to collapse from exhaustion."

"We're a small company. I don't have the luxury of an assistant," Lucian said. He knew that many of the lycans in his pack found it very odd that he had no beta, but Lucian never wanted to rely on another person, never again.

"You need rest and less coffee," Michael said. "Not my professional opinion, but I was a medical student once."

"I can rest once I've finished my job."

Once we've found the Corvinus carrier, Lucian thought and felt weariness pulling at his bones. He had been a fugitive for six hundred years, and Michael could be the one to end it all. But Michael was just a man, and Lucian was the one who would interrupt his life and make him into a god. He had only known Michael Corvin as a name on a tackboard, but for the first time Lucian wondered whether Michael would hate him for making him a pawn in someone else's war.

He stretched his arms above his head and felt his shoulders rotate and pop in their sockets. His shirt strained over his shoulders but hung loose over his ribs. He wondered about a pack whose alpha, the one that had first pick of all the spoils, looked so lean. They had been fighting for far too long and living underground like animals.

Michael was staring at him with a strange expression on his face. "How long are you in Budapest?" he asked.

"That depends on our successes," Lucian replied and brought the cup to his lips again. His nostrils flared and picked up something else under the thin layer of Turkish beans. Michael's scent had changed. It was muskier and prickly like pine needles.

Lucian almost choked on his coffee. He knew that scent. He had smelled it before on other humans, but never so strong and intoxicating. Michael was attracted to him.

Lucian cursed himself for a fool. This complicated things, and he didn't have the time or patience for complications. He decided he would let Raze kidnap Michael like they had taken the others. It was impersonal and clean.

He froze as another scent drifted his way, an impossible scent. There was something nearby that was cold and dead like the grave, and it was all Lucian could do not to Change in front of Michael. He couldn't fight the subtle lengthening of his canines and his widening pupils. There was a Death Dealer somewhere nearby. He looked across the street and saw a car with blacked-out windows idling at the light. So they hadn't come for him or Michael. He should have expected Budapest to be crawling with remnants of the highly disciplined Ördögház scouting units that Viktor had favoured. He always marvelled at how little vampires changed despite living for hundreds of years, but perhaps that was the only way immortals could stay sane, to be the single immutable thing in a frenetic aging world.

He could smell that the scout was alone and could be easily dispatched. He rose from his chair and followed its taillights as it turned at the intersection. He could track it easily enough, and he could do with some exercise. "I'm sorry," he said and his voice came out in a low growl. Instead of shying away, the scent of pine only intensified, and he realised with a little shock that Michael actually preferred him like this. "Thank you for the coffee, but I have another appointment."

Michael looked bewildered. "Uh, okay. Well." He cleared his throat. "If you ever need a contact while you're in the city, I would be happy to, ah."

"Yes," Lucian said immediately, and then in a more subdued tone, "That's very kind of you."

He handed Michael is dark weathered mobile phone and marvelled again at his luck. Having a direct link to Michael Corvin would solve many problems at once. He watched Michael tap away at the tiny keys and thought that his broad fingers had a grace learned from years of manipulating delicate surgical instruments. He would have to tell Raze to ensure that Michael didn't damage his hands if he fought back. Raze was very good at stealth for such a hulking man and knew how to incapacitate with the least violent force. Lucian wouldn't have trusted the task to anyone else.

"Here," Michael said and handed back the phone. "I don't have a mobile phone yet, so you can just call my home phone."

Lucian knew there was a human nuance to that, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. "Thank you," he said and pocketed the phone. They shook hands.

"I'll see you," Michael said and then casually, "Maybe we can go out to dinner sometime."

"Yes, perhaps," Lucian said and then walked off after the car. He could feel Michael's gaze on him as he ducked into a side street, but he couldn't afford to look back.

He waited till he was safely hidden away in the alley before giving into the compulsion to take out his mobile phone and press his nose to it. He breathed in deep, and Michael's scent hit him like The Change with all the rush of adrenaline but with a sweet edge to the pain. He felt an answering thrum go down his spine. It had been a very long time. In the beginning, he had been lost in his grief for Sonja, and then he'd thrown himself into waging the war against the vampires and keeping his people safe. He'd never had time for…and perhaps Michael was right. He was tired.

He pocketed his phone and straightened the collar of his jacket. He needed all of his concentration on the Ördögház scout now. He would see Michael again soon enough. He knelt to remove his shoes and stretched his feet more fully to expand the claws on his toes. He took a running leap towards the wall and then clung to it with his hands and feet. Grunting with effort, he began to scale upwards to the rooftops of Budapest.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucian was at his dining table poring over some maps of the Budapest underground when the door to his hideout banged open, and Michael walked in with Raze trailing behind him. Lucian didn't look up from his maps, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Michael rest a hip against the table and cross his arms. Raze growled at Michael's audacity, but Lucian waited to see what Michael would do.

"So," Michael remarked and inspected the maps. "Some startup company."

Lucian allowed himself a smile and straightened to look over Michael's shoulder at Raze. "That went better than expected. I trust you filled him in?"

"He Changed in front of me," Michael said. His eyes were steely. "And I told him I wanted to meet you. Raze was very obliging."

"Obliging?" Lucian smirked. "Raze, I never thought I would see you behave like a pup obeying its mother."

Raze didn't rise to the bait. "The human was very stubborn," he rumbled.

"So it would seem," Lucian said and ran an appraising eye over Michael again. Raze was not a lycan that deferred to anyone, even Lucian. He only gave Lucian his fealty because of their common enemies; Lucian had no doubt that Raze would have had a strong pack of his own in other circumstances.

"Thanks for escorting me here, Raze," Michael said and held Lucian's eyes, daring him to react. If it were a lycan, Lucian would have put his teeth around the man's throat to put him in his place. "Lucian and I will talk some more in private."

"You have no right to dismiss my lieutenant," Lucian growled.

"And you had no right to send a man to kidnap me," Michael snapped back. "But I'm willing to hear you speak your piece. I'm only here because you seemed like a decent man when I first met you. Was I wrong, Lucian?"

Michael's eyes were intense, and a lesser lycan would have looked away and yielded to him. It was amazing that Michael could command such power as a human. Perhaps it was his Corvinus blood.

He would make a very good beta, Lucian decided. If only they could get him to their side. If only he was the carrier. "Raze, leave us," he said. "We may be a while."

Raze shut the door behind him, and Lucian knew he would be just outside the door if anything happened. Lucian pulled out two dining room chairs, and Michael took one. He looked around at the tiny drafty one-room flat. Lucian wondered what it looked like to him, a small matchbox thing that was bare except for an air mattress, a table of maps and books, an old transistor radio, and several racks of empty test tubes.

"Nice place for lying low," Michael said. Lucian smelled a rush of adrenaline under his bravado and heard his rapid heartbeat. "What are you, the leader of the resistance or something?"

"Something like that," Lucian agreed. He snapped his fingers. "Where are my manners? Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Bite me," Michael said.

Lucian's grin showed his teeth. "I advise you to pay better attention to your phrasing."

"No." Michael pulled down the collar of his jacket. "Bite me. That's what you're going to do in the end, isn't it? That's why you brought me here." His mouth was a hard line. "So why don't we just cut to the chase?"

Lucian wanted to tell him that the sweet thrill of the chase was the best part, and he had been chasing Michael for months. "You're unusually trusting."

Michael braced his forearms on his knees. "I'm a medical man," he said. "And tonight I just saw a man become…"

"A monster," Lucian finished. He knew how humans saw his kind.

"No, something _magnificent_," Michael said. "Something science can't explain. I told you I came back to Hungary to start a new life. I used to live in America. I was one of the best surgeons in Long Island. I…was married. We were in a car accident, and my wife Samantha—"

"You can't use us to grieve for her," Lucian interrupted him. "We aren't a paltry diversion, we're an army."

Michael shook his head. "You tell me I could be the key to…some superweapon that you could use against the vampires. What am I supposed to say to that? How do you expect me to deal with that?" Michael put his head in his hands and scrubbed at his hair. "I…I just have nowhere else to go."

"That isn't good enough," Lucian told him. "You need to devote yourself to our cause, make our fight yours. You can't just join us because you feel alone."

Michael stared at him. Lucian noticed for the first time that he had dark circles under his eyes. "Tell me," Michael said. "How many young guys do you have in your army that have nowhere else to go, no family to go back to? How many joined up because some maniac bit them, and they started going through changes they couldn't understand? How many volunteered because they'd do anything not to feel alone? And what's the difference between me and them, that I'm human? Don't fuck with me."

Lucian realised he was holding his breath. Gods, but the old Corvinus family must have been formidable. "You will be involving yourself in a war that has been raging for thousands of years," he murmured. "It isn't your war."

"Yes it is," Michael insisted. "You made it mine. You're the tactical leader here, Lucian. What do you think the vampires are going to do with me if they find out the lycans tried to recruit me?"

Lucian closed his eyes and heard the echoes of Sonja's screams echo through his head. "No," he said. "You're only human. They wouldn't touch you."

"Wouldn't they?" Michael snarled. "From what you and Raze have told me, they seem like ruthless bastards. Lucian." He put a hand on Lucian's arm. His eyes looked tired. "Lucian, please."

Lucian leaned forward, and Michael didn't move. Lucian growled low his in his throat, and Michael dropped his eyes. Lucian smelled pine needles, and his eyes dropped involuntarily to Michael's mouth. He wondered how easy it would be to manipulate Michael, to use his attraction against him and talk him out of his stupid suicidal idea. Lucian had never had the opportunity to participate in any human courtship rituals, but he had observed them at length. The wining and dining, the long phonecalls. The inevitable kiss.

Lucian summoned the Change from deep within him. A rush of pain and endorphins crashed through him, and he bared his teeth. His torso grew sturdier, his arms more muscled. He knew he was growling louder now, and his eyes were a terrible electric blue. But Michael only squared his shoulders and gripped Lucian's arm tighter. Lucian was impressed in spite of himself.

"You _are_ a Corvinus," he murmured. "Very well. Let us, as you say, cut to the chase. Lie back, this will be painful."

He helped Michael lie back onto the floor and then climbed over him, bracing himself up one an elbow. He let his thighs bracket Michael's legs to keep him still, and he could feel Michael's heart hammering in his chest. Michael was staring at him with a mixture of apprehension and a scrap of his old bravado. Lucian hissed and felt the raw pain of his gums transforming, his lycan canines long and razor sharp against his tongue.

"Oh my god," Michael gasped, but didn't move.

Lucian ran a finger across the collar of Michael's jacket and then pulled it down. The skin underneath goosepimpled in the chilly air. Michael put a hand against Lucian's chest to steady him, and Lucian let his face drop against Michael's shoulder. He could feel Michael's breath against his ear. This felt like an intimate act instead of something often done in casual violence and bloodlust.

"Michael," Lucian said into his neck.

Michael sucked in a breath. "Just do it."

There was no way to soften it. Lucian bent his head and clamped his jaws around the juncture of Michael's neck and shoulder, and Michael cried out. Lucian felt his mouth fill with coppery blood, and he pulled away to spit into one of the test tubes from the racks.

Michael's body spasmed, and Lucian pressed a hand against his chest. Michael didn't respond, just began to breathe in rapid shallow gasps.

"Raze!" Lucian shouted, and Raze rushed back in. Lucian gave him the test tube. "Get this to Singe. Hurry. I'll stay with him."

Raze blinked but then ran off to do as he was told. Lucian slung one of Michael's arms around his own shoulders and tried to make him stand. He understood why Raze was confused; most of the lycan sires didn't bother staying around to see their fledgelings through the Change. It was the reason Lucian's army had so many strays.

"Come on," Lucian grunted. "Michael, walk."

"C-Can't." Michael's legs folded up to moment his feet touched the floor, so Lucian put an arm under his knees and back and carried him to the small air mattress he had for a bed. Michael had broken out in a cold sweat, but Lucian pulled the single ratty blanket over him anyway.

"Can you hear me?" he said. "Pull yourself together."

Michael's eyes were fluttering under his eyelids, and his face had gone completely white. "Your…god, your memories. You…" A tear ran down from his corner of his eye to darken the pillowcase. Michael put his hand over his face, leaving little streaks of blood and gore across his nose. "Oh god. _Sonja_."

"What did you say?" Lucian barked. He was crushing Michael's arm in his clawed grip.

Michael didn't hear him. "Sonja. Why would he…Lucian, I'm so sorry. Sonja. Samantha."

"No, my friend. I'm sorry." Lucian pushed Michael's sweaty hair back from his forehead. "I shouldn't have brought you here. I should have asked you to dinner instead like you wanted me to. We should have exchanged long phonecalls."

He heard Raze's footfalls in the street outside even before he crashed through the door, transforming abruptly from lycan to man as he skidded to a stop. "Lucian! Singe says it's positive! He has the genes!"

"Of course he is," Lucian whispered and ran a hand through Michael's hair. Michael pressed into the touch. "My Corvinus lycan. Of course."


	3. Chapter 3

Lucian didn't stir from his air mattress bed when Michael knocked on his door and let himself in. They were attacking tonight. They would steal a vial of Amelia's blood to make Michael into a hybrid while their other troops prepared themselves for Ördögház's expected retribution; they would make their stand in the underground where they had trained and knew the territory. They had spent hours going over the many tunnels and grates, the weak indefensible positions and the ingresses the vampires would most likely use to mount an attack. Michael had been invaluable as his beta, jumping in to support him before Lucian even thought to ask and working tirelessly with the troops. Most importantly, unlike Lucian's other generals, he had people skills. He had a doctor's bedside manner that had earned him the respect of the other high-ranking lycans that would have otherwise resented him for his rapid advancement. He and Singe got along famously.

"How are the troops?" Lucian asked. He heard the clink of beer bottles and then a snap as Michael popped open the cap with a claw and drank.

"Alright. Nervous, but a little is good. It'll keep them on their toes." Michael came to sit on the edge of the mattress. "When's Amelia coming?"

Lucian rolled onto his back and folded his arms over his stomach. "Her train is arriving at midnight. Kraven's promised us a clean kill."

Michael snorted. "I don't like that guy."

"No one likes him," Lucian said. "But we need him. For now. Besides, he doesn't need to know about you. You're our touchstone."

"Your Hail Mary," Michael said, and then must have seen the confusion on Lucian's face. "It's a football thing. We'll watch it sometime."

"Hm," Lucian said noncommittally. It was obvious sometimes that Michael had never been born a lycan. He made plans for the future and promised Lucian hundreds of things like an evening out at the cinema or a short visit back to Long Island. Someday, he always said. But Lucian had been born with a lycan inheritance that never let him hope for anything more than the present, no matter how much he wanted to believe in Michael's dreams.

Michael put his beer aside and stretched out on the bed beside Lucian. "Getting some shut-eye before the fight?"

"Yes," Lucian said. He rather liked the American term 'shut-eye,' as if lycans didn't sleep even when they were resting. "I feel we should all be well-rested, especially you. You still haven't adjusted to being nocturnal."

"Hospital graveyard shift," Michael replied with a grin. "Midnight to eight in the morning, every day for three months. I think my body's telling me that my quota is filled up."

Lucian laughed at that. Michael was very good at making him laugh. His silly self-deprecating American humour hadn't faltered in the wake of joining Lucian's army, and Lucian was drawn to the charming foreignness of it, so different from the dour intensity that pervaded both the vampire and lycan clans.

He and Michael both stared at the ceiling and listened to the rumble of the train pass by. The beer bottle rattled on the floor. It was unusually warm for Budapest, and Lucian had left the window open.

"Hey, Lucian," Michael said. "I know this might not be the best time to ask you, but…we won't have time tomorrow."

_We__won't__have__time__tomorrow_, as if they didn't all know they were sacrificing their lives to achieve one small improbable victory. But Lucian didn't have the heart to correct him. "Yes?"

Michael wouldn't look at him. "I just…what did I do? Did I make a mistake?"

Lucian's insides froze. Michael had doubts. Of course he had doubts; he hadn't been a lycan for long and was already preparing to die for them. "What do you mean?" he said as coolly as he could manage.

Michael rolled over till he was staring down at him. Lucian stared back and watched a series of unknown emotions go across Michael's face. Michael licked his lips a few times. "Lucian," he murmured. "Why didn't you ever make me your mate?"

Lucian was caught between shock and laughter. Of all the things he had expected Michael to say, he had never guessed it would be that. He felt a surge of warmth go up his spine like the Change and didn't speak till he had subdued it. "Because I needed you to be my beta for the sake of our people," he said finally. "More than I wanted you for my own sake."

"Why can't I be both?" Michael asked, and his face was suddenly very close. "You probably—you _have_ to know how I feel about you. Hell, half the pack knows. They think it's hilarious."

Lucian wanted to push him away, because this was precisely the kind of complications he had intended to eliminate at the café when they had first met. But it had been a dreary life without complications and silly humour and promises to see old films in the park.

Michael huffed out a breath and then moved to get up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have anything. I'll leave now."

"No." Lucian caught his wrist. Promises, maybe that's why humanity was still young and vibrant after thousands of years. "Michael, come here."

He pulled Michael against him and let him smell how Lucian had noticed his eyes when he had first taken off his sunglasses. He liked to listen to the outdated music and foreign news that Michael managed to coax out of the transistor radio, liked the warm feel of his pathetic one-room flat when Michael was there. Michael's bewildering jokes, his odd playful moods more suited to brash young whelps.

"_Oh_," Michael said sank down to bury his face in the crook of Lucian's neck. It reminded Lucian of when he had bitten Michael, when Michael had said Sonja's name and mourned her the way Lucian could not. "_Oh-h_. Oh my god, you smell so…you smell like…god, _you._"

The scent of pine needles surged into Lucian's nose, and it took all of his strength to restrain himself. It had been far too long since he had allowed someone so close. He had forgotten the gentle touch of someone's fingers on his face. "Michael," he gasped. "_Michael_, you have to stop, or I won't be able to…"

"Let go." Michael's voice was muffled, and Lucian could feel the movement of his lips on his skin. "You don't have to be in control all the time." Michael's mouth curved into a smile. "That's why you have a beta."

Lucian felt another wave of wantneed_take_ go through him and didn't try to resist. Michael was making little ecstatic sounds of wonder with his lips pressed to the curve of Lucian's shoulder, and Lucian grabbed Michael's face in his hands and pulled him away.

"What?" Michael asked hazily. His eyes were unfocused. "What are you—"

Lucian ran a thumb across the dark circle under Michael's eye. "We won't have time tomorrow," he said and pulled Michael down to claim his mouth. The inevitable kiss.

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><p><strong>END<strong>

**Feedback is welcome.**

**Author Note: **Sorry to be snippy here. Perhaps I've been receiving feedback requesting more chapters because I did not explicitly write THE END when this piece was done. In that case, sorry for not being clear. This has been rectified. In general, please check if stories are marked Complete (as this one is) before asking to "please update" or "Please continue," as this will completely confuse the writer. (Personally, I just stared at these reviews thinking, "I'm sorry, there's nothing more to give. What do you want from me?")

The author has to physically go and click Story is Complete if they are finished writing. Otherwise, FF Net assumes the story is ongoing. Therefore, complete stories are not labelled by mistake. No amount of prompting will make an author write any more than he or she has deemed appropriate, and any requests of that nature are more likely to annoy than inspire. Thanks for your understanding.


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